Playing the Field

by C. J. Pinard

  I frowned. “Oh. Well, I don’t get home until 1 July. I hope you guys have fun. Did you get your plane tickets yet?”

  “No. And just so you know, I’m pretty upset you can’t come, but I’m not gonna dictate her wedding. Something about her mom having vacation time to come to the wedding and then watch Aiden when they take their honeymoon. She told me to tell you she was sorry.”

  I smiled. That was nice. “It’s okay, you can send me photos.”

  “Oh, I’ll be sending you some photos, all right. Maybe later tonight or tomorrow.” She winked at me.

  Damn I love this woman.

  We said our painful goodbyes, and I disconnected the video chat, falling into bed with my mind twirling with what was going on at home. I wondered if they were okay at night alone. I wondered if the house was holding up all right. I wondered who was eating the leftovers, as I was the only one who usually did. I wondered if a toilet had broken again, or if her car had needed maintenance. Then I took a deep breath and realized two things: One, Miranda had survived fine without me for years before I met her, and she would go on just fine without me. It stung a little that she didn’t quite need me, but was glad she wanted me. Secondly, it was time to get my head into my deployment and out of my home. This was drilled into us. If you’re deployed, get your head into your job and not your home life. It would be there when you got back, and your spouse, parents, siblings, children, and whoever else you left behind would be fine. They would survive. Most of the guys here had a lot of support back home, and for that I was glad. I was one of them. Miranda’s parents and sister were close by, and Dalt and Jory promised they’d check in on my bride while I was gone. As big of an ass as Jory was, I knew he’d keep his word. Dalton too. My brothers were there for me during my last two deployments and I knew even more so now, they would step up. Hell, even my dad. All of them had expressed a soft spot for Ashlynn, too. Who didn’t have a soft spot for the little brown-eyed beauty? Everyone who met her fell in love with her.

  Me included.

  My life was full. My heart was overflowing. But I had a job to do. And tomorrow I would commit to that with one hundred percent of me. Six months was but a mere blink in time, and I would be home soon enough and get to spend the rest of my life loving those two beautiful girls with all that I were now mine to care for.

  Chapter 20

  My three Marines and I walked into a small interrogation room where there were so many things to look at, that I wasn’t sure where to look first. There were two enemy insurgents sitting in metal folding chairs. They were handcuffed to the back, a set of leg irons on each leg under the clothes they wore. Clothes that always looked like long dresses to me. Their beards and hair were unkempt and they wore scowls on their dirty faces. One was shouting in his language to a Marine MP standing ‘guard’ next to him. The MP wasn’t looking at the prisoner, instead staring with a straight face toward the door we’d just come through. He flicked his gaze at the three of us, then back to staring into space.

  My commanding officer was sitting with another officer across the table from them. We nodded at them, then stared questioningly at our COs, waiting for instruction. I couldn’t help but let my eyes occasionally drift to the prisoners and the vests they wore over their clothes. Vests full of metal and wires. My heartbeat sped up so much that I thought the whole room could probably hear it. Thank God the one insurgent wouldn’t shut the hell up.

  Both officers stood up, my CO, Lt. Col. Michael Amaro, said, “E.O.D. is here, good. Gentlemen, we found these two sleazing around the secure perimeter of the base. Once they were spotted, instead of trying to detonate these devices they are currently wearing, they ran like the cowards that they are.” He threw them both a scathing look, then looked back at us. “They were no match trying to run wearing all this stuff. They were tackled and handcuffed. They were then brought back here for us to deal with. As you can see, these vests need to be removed before we can process them for prisoner transport. “This guy,” he said, pointing at the one who was currently being quiet, “speaks a little English and informed us if we removed the vests, they would explode immediately.”

  I eyeballed the guy, then his vest. Then the other Lt. Colonel, Smith, spoke up. “I suggested we put them out in the middle of the desert and hold them at gunpoint – far away, sniper style, of course – and order them to remove the vests themselves to see if it was really true, but Amaro here said that wasn’t going to happen.” I could tell he was suppressing a chuckle, as was I, because I was thinking the same thing.

  Lt. Col. Amaro was a serious guy, not very tall but all about business. His black hair was cut so short, it was almost shorn, and his face young and somber-looking. “E.O.D., you guys are going to be taken to one of our emergency bomb shelters and we want you to figure out if we can just take these off, or if this shithead here is just lying because we’re taking his only weapon.”

  “I am not lying!” he spat at us.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Lt. Col. Smith yelled at him.

  And he did, by glowering at us all.

  “God, I miss the days of duct tape,” Smith muttered under his breath.

  Amaro looked at us both. “You ready for this?”

  “Yes, sir,” we answered in unison.

  The two heavily armed military policemen escorted them at gunpoint out of the room. We followed.

  None of us spoke as our entourage walked about 100 yards to a building I had seen before but didn’t know what it was. It resembled a large warehouse, but as we entered, I could see the whole building was made of reinforced steel. There really wasn’t much in it, more like a big, open space. Amaro went over and grabbed two chairs and set them in the middle of the room. He jerked his head toward the chairs while looking at the MPs. They both nodded, escorting the prisoners to the chairs, looping their cuffed arms behind the backs of the chairs. I watched as they both checked and double-checked both sets of restraints, then walked back over to where we were standing.

  “You guys ready to do this?” Amaro asked, looking each one of us in the eye.

  I swallowed down the fear that had slowly been creeping up my spine and looked him square in the eye. “Yes, sir.”

  He nodded, then indicated for Smith and the two MPs to follow him outside. I wondered if they would be watching through a window or not. It didn’t really matter. If we screwed this up, we’d all be dead and I’d no longer care how my performance and professionalism looked to anyone.

  I looked at the other two guys. “I say we take this slow, and one at a time. Let’s start with the quiet one.”

  Sgt. Cade Thompson, a fellow Marine I went to E.O.D. school with, nodded. “I agree.”

  Sgt. Zane Peltier was the other guy, and he also nodded his agreement.

  Taking a deep breath, we walked slowly over to the prisoners.

  “This is going to explode, and you and your friends are going to die with us,” prisoner number one said in broken English I could barely understand.

  I decided to ignore him, keeping my brave war face on as I took a look at the wiring that was threaded through the vest. It was all very crudely done. I flinched as something wet hit the clear plastic face shield of my helmet, and watched as my prisoner smiled in satisfaction, more spittle dribbling down his chin.

  “Asshole,” I grumbled. I reached down and ripped a piece of the prisoner’s… dress… for lack of a better term, and used it to wipe off my face shield. Then I threw the material back in his face. “Next time I’ll tape your mouth shut. Now sit still, you shitbag.”

  I heard Thompson tell Peltier, “He does that again, I’ll fold his teeth back with my fist.”

  I went back to inspecting the wires, and saw that a red one indeed did lead to somewhere under his clothing. I followed it gingerly with my finger, where it disappeared near his chest area. I ripped the material of his shirt open and saw that this wire was attached to a device that was taped to the man’s skin. I drew a lot of satisfaction ripping the tape off of one
side, very, very slowly, taking a lot of chest hair with it. The prisoner yelled at me in his native language, but I just tossed him a dimpled smirk, which probably pissed him off some more. I kept the device pressed to his chest with my gloved hand, the other side of the device still held on by tape.

  Turning my head, I indicated for the other two to take a look. “Looks bullshit to me,” I said, looking at both of them for confirmation.

  “It will explode, just you wait and see,” the enemy said, smiling.

  I ignored him again and let the others inspect the device. It had no blinking lights, which was good, and because this was the only thing attaching itself from the vest to the man, that this is what he meant by telling us the whole thing would detonate if we removed the vest. If we could remove this from his skin, we could cut the vests along the material and get them off without even having to uncuff these terrorists. Then we could work on diffusing the vests in the seclusion of a lab behind safety glass.

  Thompson nodded. “I’d remove it from his body, instead of cutting the wire. We can do that in the shop.”

  I nodded, taking a deep breath. Looking at the other two, I pointed to the front door of the bunker and said, “Take the other prisoner and get as far away from us as possible. No need to kill all four of us to see if this works.”

  “Nah, man, I’m staying right here,” Thompson said soberly.

  “Me too,” Peltier replied.

  “All right. Your funeral,” I shrugged, trying to joke.

  I looked at the other prisoner, whose chair was no more than 5 feet away, and saw the fear in his eyes. I then looked at my insurgent and saw him smiling, no fear seemed to be there at all. That gave me the confidence I needed. No martyr would smile as his death was seconds upon him, no matter how much he believed in his cause. No human being wanted to die for his own or someone else’s beliefs. We had been taught this as part of our schooling, so his aloof grin let me know my decision was a safe one. This asshole was just as happy as I was to get this explosive off his body. I took a deep breath and held it, slowly ripping the other side of the tape off and lifting my hand away from the device…

  “Dammit!” I groaned, bolting upright in my bed. I scrubbed a hand down my face and took a deep breath, slowly becoming calm as I realized I was in my barracks room and not back in Fallujah.

  Six weeks had passed since I’d arrived in Afghanistan. I didn’t think anyone here knew that during my active duty full-time service with the Marines, I had been on the E.O.D. team – explosive ordinance disposal. After enlisting right out of high school, that had been my MOS and I had spent a year in school back east learning how to diffuse explosives of all types, sizes, and shapes.

  Holy shit… there had been some stressful moments, not unlike the one in my dream. Most of the training wasn’t with ‘real’ explosives, and even the ‘fake’ ones had caused my body to break out in a serious sweat if I clipped the wrong wire. But a few training sessions under my belt, and my confidence had grown by leaps and bounds. Obviously, my decision to remove the detonation device from the terrorist’s chest had been a good one, as nothing had happened. After calling my CO and the MPs back in the building, we’d taken the vests we’d cut from the terrorists back to our shop. We’d learned that if the wire had been yanked from where it connected the vest to the device taped to their chests, it would have exploded. Those two knuckleheads were sitting in a prison somewhere, thinking about their decision to be martyrs, and were probably shamed by their comrades for getting caught. The thought still brought a smile to my face.

  I got up to start my day. A day that would involve computers and surveillance equipment and recording devices. Not bombs and terrorists. I was quickly learning this job, and I loved it, but a small part of me missed the E.O.D. Just a small part. Thinking back to when I’d enlisted, when you’re young, you sort of think you’re invincible. You live for the adrenaline rush and excitement of it. As the years go on, you look back and realize how many damn times you’d been in danger, and then close your eyes and thank God above He had spared you and let you live another day. I had just had my 28th birthday, and while some still considered this young, I felt I had grown so much since I was 18. I had been to hell and back and now I had a good life, and I wasn’t going to squander it. I was going to live it to its fullest and hope that good things would continue to come my way if I kept on the good road.

  Chapter 21

  I watched as the Skype screen dialed into Miranda’s account, anxious to see her pretty smile on the screen. While I waited patiently for her to find the button to turn the video on, I could hear her voice telling me to hold on. For some reason, that damn laptop kept the video off and had to be manually turned on. Every single time. I would have to fix that when I got home.

  Smiling as the screen finally flickered to life, I suddenly frowned as, instead of seeing my wife’s beautiful face, something white and pink was taking up the screen. I squinted, but whatever it was, was too close to the screen.

  “Miranda – where are you? Whatever that is, it’s blocking the camera. I can’t see you.”

  “Okay,” she said, as the image became clearer as she pulled it away from the camera lens. I could see her fingernails as her hand was wrapped around a white stick.

  It was a pregnancy test. And there were two pink lines.

  I gasped in shock, my eyes probably as big as saucers, my eyebrows hitting my hairline. “Oh, my God, baby. Two lines is positive?” I squinted at the screen, my nose practically touching the screen.

  She yanked the test away and I saw her face. She was smiling, but seemed a little stressed out, too.

  “I’m speechless, Miranda. I don’t know what to say. This is quite… unexpected.”

  She frowned. “You’re upset.”

  “No! No, I’m not. I’m not upset. I guess I just need a few to let this sink in.”

  “Does this help?” she asked, holding up a small black and white photo of something that looked like the Doppler Radar with a blob in the middle. I again craned my face closer to the screen. Her white-tip painted fingernail pointed at the blob. “It’s a baby, see?”

  “Oh, of course it is. What was I thinking?” I said.

  “You’re being an asshole!”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not. I’m in shock, Miranda. How far along is it?”

  “I got pregnant a couple nights before you left, player. I’m due in like, early October.” Her eyes got glassy and I thought I saw her lip tremble. “I know this is unexpected, but I thought you’d be a little happy. You look like you’re about to throw up, or hang up on me.”

  I sighed and scrubbed my hand across my chin. “I am happy. I just can’t believe this. I’m gonna be a dad?”

  She laughed a little, swiping at the tear under her right eye. “Yes, baby, you are. You are a good dad to Ash. I think you’re a natural.”

  I grinned. “You do?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I do. And I miss you so damn much it hurts, Jace. I have known almost two weeks about the baby, but couldn’t bear to tell you by text or email. I wanted it at least to be somewhat in person. I knew you couldn’t Skype ‘til today and I’ve been waiting so patiently!”

  This made my heart clench. “I’m sorry, my queen. I really am. I just can’t believe this. It’s so soon! We were gonna wait. But it’s okay, everything happens for a reason,” I said, slowly warming up to the idea and getting a fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach that was both excitement and nerves.

  She nodded. “I know. I was still taking my pills, but remember that bout of bronchitis I got? Well apparently the antibiotics I was taking made my birth control pills less effective. Guess I should have read the pamphlet better.” I watched as a red stain crept up her cheeks. It was so freakin’ cute.

  “It’s okay, like I said, everything happens for a reason. Have you told anyone?”

  She nodded. “I really wanted to wait to tell people until you knew, but I just had to tell someone, so of course I told C
ara. I knew she would probably only tell Riley, which I didn’t mind. I just didn’t want to tell my family until the baby’s daddy knew first.” She winked at me.

  Baby’s daddy. Oh, my God. I was going to have a baby. And I was gonna be home to see he or she being born. I took a deep breath and smiled a big, genuine smile.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, player.”

  ***

  I walked into the office I worked in to start my day and was still smiling from my conversation the day before with Miranda.

  “What the hell is there to be so happy about on a Monday morning?” asked Dave Elliot, another surveillance tech I worked with. Dave was in his mid-forties and was mostly pleasant to be around, but he did have a bad temper, and I had learned to shut up when he went on one of his tirades.

  “I’m gonna be a dad.”

  He clapped me on the back. “Congratulations, man. Your life is now no longer your own!”

  While I was mildly offended, I could tell by the look on his face that he was joking. “Thanks.”

  “I’m just screwing with ya. Really. So, boy or girl?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think we can find out yet. She’s due in October sometime, and it’s only March. So when I talk to her next, I’ll ask.”

  “Well, that’s great.” He grabbed his cup of coffee from a small cheap pot we kept in the shop and turned around to go plant his ass in front of the bank of computers he worked with.

  I did the same, and as I sat at my workstation, I was grateful we didn’t have anything too pressing going on. My mind was on fire with the news from yesterday, and I just couldn’t concentrate. I tried really hard, and for a while I would forget as I was working, but then the realization would slam back into me. I would randomly smile like a fool, and the guys in the shop would ask me why I was smiling like a dork. I was more than happy to tell them.

  I was due home 1 July, which meant I would be home in plenty of time to help Miranda during the end of her pregnancy, and of course be there for the birth of the baby. Maybe we could even wait until I got home to find out the sex of the baby. I grinned a little, knowing that Miranda would probably want to find out as soon as she could. Maybe I could be on Skype during the ultrasound…